


Under Your Umbrella

by Jester85



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe RPF
Genre: M/M, RPS - Freeform, real person fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-30
Updated: 2017-05-30
Packaged: 2018-11-06 15:41:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11039214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jester85/pseuds/Jester85
Summary: So Tom's Lip Synch Battle performance got me feeling some kind of way.  And in this fic, Harrison too, I guess.I don't usually write real person fics, but here is this small humble offering.  Idk.....it is what it is.





	Under Your Umbrella

Harrison reclined back on the couch, long legs stretched out and resting on the coffee table of Tom's new apartment.  Tom didn't like it when he did that, but Tom wasn't here right now, so Tom could blow him (and hopefully would later).

His boyfriend was prancing around the stage on the TV, spinning his folded umbrella and doing his best Gene Kelly impression.  It was cute, in a little kid talent show kind of way, but Harrison knew what was coming next.

This was about to get a little less safe for work.

It was kinda hilarious how shocked everyone acted when cute little boy in his raincoat and hat was suddenly replaced with a gyrating dominatrix.  Harrison just smirked.  Under his shy cute little boy-next-door persona, Tom was a self-confident cocky little shit.   

His smirk died a little; _did Tom just give Zendaya a lap dance?_

He tried not to feel the small stab of jealousy.  He knew Tom was just goofing around.  He loved hanging out with Zendaya, and if their flirting was enough to offset Tom dancing around dressed like Rihanna and calm down the tongues wagging about their "bromance" (he couldn't help but snort when he read that), then it ought to make the PR guys happy.

It still stung though, just a little bit, like when Tom was obligated to meet some arbritrary quota of offhand references to past girlfriends in interviews, always vague and always spoken of as a thing of the past, just tossing the PR guys a bone.

Tom wasn't ashamed of his sexuality or their relationship, but he was up-and-coming, his star set to explode, and Harrison couldn't be any prouder or more excited for him, but with that came pressure, and image, and Tom didn't want to get pigeonholed as a "gay actor" so early in his career, and Harrison got it, he really did.  

He supported it.  Mostly.

Onstage, Tom was leading a synchronized dance routine that put Britney Spears to shame.  Or Harrison thought so.  He might be slightly biased.

He got lost enough in the sway of his boyfriend's hips that he didn't notice the door opening, or his flesh-and-blood boyfriend slowly closing it behind him.

"Having a crafty wank without me?  I see how you are, no loyalty," Tom drawled from behind him, and the grin stretched Harrison's face.  He couldn't help it.

"Says the one giving lap dances.  I think you scarred some of those people for life."

Tom grinned enough to show his dimples, setting a couple plastic boxes on the coffee table and swatting Harrison's feet off to plunk down beside him, shirt stretched across his chest toned from his Homecoming workout regimen.  

_My boyfriend looks good._

"I got Chinese," Tom explained, popping his box open and immediately munching on his bourbon chicken.  "Dig in before it gets cold."

"In a minute," Harrison shrugged, eyes still glued to the screen where his boyfriend was executing a dramatic hair toss that would shame Beyonce.

Tom followed his gaze and grinned.  "Yea, I do look hot, don't I?"

"Such a diva," Harrison mock sighed.  "Movie's not even out yet and all the fame already gone to his head."

"That's what I keep you around for.  To 'keep me grounded'," Tom eye-rolled with air quotes, but his head ducked down and eyes averted in a flicker of shyness that let Harrison know it wasn't a total joke.

His dopey smile fell again when he glanced back at the television, where Tom was grinding his ass up on a giggling Zendaya.

Apparently his grimace must have been more obvious than he thought, because his boyfriend was gazing at him intently, a kind of awe dawning in his eyes like when he watched Tessa playing in leaves.  "What was  _that_ look?"

Harrison felt heat rising on his cheeks, the coffee table suddenly immensely fascinating.

"Did that make you  _jealous?_ " Tom was demanding, grinning wide enough to show his dimples again.

"Naw, I mean...." Harrison shrugged lamely.  "I know it's just a joke."

His view of his dancing boyfriend on TV was suddenly blocked by real said boyfriend smoothly swinging a leg over him to straddle him on the couch, looping arms around his neck.

"Well then, let's have a more serious demonstration," Tom whispered in his ear, hips grinding down.

Their food ended up getting reheated later.

*** * ***

"I kind of like it when you're jealous," Tom whispered hotly at one point later, and Harrison couldn't help but agree.

*** * ***

Tangled sheets, bare skin against bare skin, sweat cooling on naked bodies.

Harrison's arm was slung around his smaller boyfriend, Tom's face burrowed into the spot where his neck met his shoulder.

Tom liked to be held like this, sometimes, feel grounded and protected and cared for, as if Harrison's arms were a refuge from all the crazy pressure and immensity of the world he'd found himself a part of.

But Tom was also a cocky little shit who didn't like to be coddled, so it only happened when he could use the excuse of sleep.

Harrison knew Tom well enough to know when he needed it, unspoken, and Tom knew he didn't have to confront the difficulty of asking for it.

Harrison planted a soft kiss into Tom's fluffy hair damp with sweat, resting his face in it, breathing in the familiar smell of Tom, tangled together in twisted sheets.

He wasn't trying to wake his boyfriend---he knew Tom had to be jetlagged, no matter how perpetually bright-eyed and bushy-tailed his boyfriend seemed---but Tom stirred in his arms.  His face raised and he blinked blearily at him, a soft smile on his face.

Harrison smiled back, and for a moment they just softly regarded each other.  It felt tender.  It felt intimate.  It felt.... _big_ , and for a moment Harrison felt a bit overwhelmed, scared even.

And then Tom leaned in, nose brushing his, and whispered, "I'm glad to be with you, Samwise Gamgee," and they both broke out in giggles, and this was okay.  It wasn't any big scary thing.  It was just them.  The way it always had been.

_Well, maybe not quite the way it had always been...._

"I don't think Sam and Frodo did this," he mused when he'd calmed down.

"Are you kidding?" Tom scoffed, "They  _totally_ did."

"Tom, we watched the extended editions of all three of those movies.  I don't remember any Hobbit shagging."

"Well, not onscreen.  'Cause, PR and shit.  But Frodo and Sam were totally at it like rabbits any time those cameras weren't rolling.  Except maybe when Gollum was around, 'cause ew."

"I knew Frodo was keeping him around for something."

"Like his world class shagging skills."

"Well, and the whole 'keeping him alive' thing.  But mostly the shagging."

"Priorities."

"Totally. Frodo and Sam were just fuckbuddies, basically."

"Well, I think Frodo kept him around for more than that," Tom said, eyes suddenly soft and focused, and Harrison felt his chest tighten again, that feeling of  _bigness_ swelling back.

"Yea?"  
  


"Yea."  Tom smiled, soft and sweet and fond.  "Frodo wouldn't have gotten far without Sam."

Harrison didn't know what to say to that, but Tom knew because he always knew, and Tom just leaned in and pecked a soft kiss to his lips, surprisingly chaste and innocent as if they weren't tangled together ass naked on Tom's bed, and then his boyfriend was springing out of bed, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, and said "Come on, I'm hungry.  Let's heat up our Chinese and watch a movie."

And Harrison followed without a thought because, well, because he'll always follow Tom.


End file.
